First Dance
by Vixenne Victorienne
Summary: Claudia Grant and Roy Fokker meet for the first time. Sparks, definitely. But the road to love isn't always straight, especially in the middle of a war.
1. First Dance

**Yes, it has been long in the coming, another Claudia Grant/Roy Fokker tale. I've missed my favorite Robotech pairing and decided to go back to the beginning, when they first met.**

**Don't be too hard on Roy—after all, when women are constantly throwing themselves at you, well, it's kind of hard not to develop a bit of an ego. But Claudia will set him straight...**

**Legal stuff: I don't own anything in the Robotech universe...I just like to play in it.**

First Dance

"C'mon Lisa, staying in your quarters playing solitaire is no way to spend a free Saturday night. Besides, this is the inaugural opening of the 'The Bridge', and I'm sure they're expecting at least a few of us officers to show up."

Claudia Grant, Navigator and Chief Weapons Officer of the SDF-1, was in the midst of trying on several outfits, and modeling them for cursory inspection by the red-headed young woman who sat on her bed passing judgment on each. The pile of discarded choices was growing higher and higher with each incredulous look from her friend, and Claudia was getting frustrated.

"You know this kind of thing isn't me, Claudia," Lisa Hayes said, her eyes widening in shock with each new outrageous outfit Claudia paraded in front of her. While Lisa admired her best friend's womanly curves, in contrast to her own straight, athletic frame, some of the fashions made her wonder just what Claudia had been thinking when she bought them. Some of the dresses looked more like lingerie, and certainly not something one would wear in public. "Besides, commanding officers have a duty to be an example of proper behavior, and carousing in front of their soldiers isn't it."

Claudia rolled her eyes. "Oh please, girlfriend. Don't spout rules and regulations at me, not on my downtime. It's bad enough I've got to deal with little miss 'no smoking on the bridge, sir' everyday. I just want to let my hair down, and so do you."

Lisa said nothing, knowing that once again Claudia was right, and hating to admit it.

Ever since the death of her fiancé Karl Riber, all she'd done was throw herself into her work, leaving her little time to think or to grieve. She maintained a polite distance from practically everyone around her, save Claudia, who'd been her best friend since their academy days.

Deep inside she knew that she _was_ hiding from her feelings, that it was time to let go of Karl's memory, but the guilt in doing so—that she had survived when he hadn't, still plagued her. Worse still, she was in grave danger of turning into her father, Admiral Hayes, a fate she had promised herself that she'd avoid at all costs, but which seemed to be a self-fulfilling prophesy.

Still, it couldn't hurt to make an _appearance_, Lisa shrugged to herself pragmatically. At the very least she could see if the crew was behaving itself with some sort of decorum. Besides, it would serve as a means for her to get to know better those who served under her. Maybe then people wouldn't find her so unapproachable. She never wanted to be the kind of officer her father was--cold and completely out of touch with his people.

"Okay, I'm in. But if someone's dancing on top of the table with a lampshade on their heads, they're in for some serious disciplinary action."

Claudia's amused grin was wide. She then took one hopeless look at Lisa's drab and rather unflattering service whites. "You are _not_ wearing those to the club. You're not on duty anymore. C'mon, I'm sure I've got something to fit you that won't offend your modesty too much."

Lisa took one look at the outfit Claudia had chosen for herself—tight leather jeans, a corset-style top and boots with a heel so high and so thin that they seemed impossible to walk in. Compared to everything else Claudia had tried on, this one seemed the most 'conservative', and that was saying something.

Lisa blanched at the thought of what Claudia wanted to put her in. "I just hope you're not expecting me to show that much skin, Claudia."

"Actually, sweetie, it wouldn't hurt you to do just that. You're a woman, not some sexless machine. Show off those curves and give the flyboys out there something worth fighting for."

Lisa had to laugh, the image of being some Veritech pilot's pin-up girl almost too ridiculous for words. "Well, as long as it's not too short or too tight. I do have a reputation to maintain."

"Not tonight you don't," Claudia quipped. "Tonight you're just Lisa Hayes, reporting to party central!" The mock salute she gave made them both laugh.

Later, the two friends spent a leisurely couple of hours indulging in facials, gossip, and playing with Lisa's rich russet hair, trying out new and more sophisticated styles. Finally, Lisa settled on a simple ponytail held back with a crystal-encrusted clip. She dusted a bit of shadow on her eyes and applied a rich ruby lipstick to lips that she often considered her best feature.

Claudia gave her approval. "You look really great, Lisa. No one's going to recognize you."

After zipping up the simple black slipdress Claudia loaned to her, and taking another look, this time in the full-length mirror, Lisa had to admit for the first time in a long time, she looked surprisingly good. The dress accentuated her frame perfectly, showing off her slender legs. Her father would not have approved, but for tonight, her father could go hang.

"Let's go knock 'em dead!" Claudia crowed.

'The Bridge' was the hot new officers' club that had opened on the SDF-1 and it was determined to be the best. Located two levels below the actual bridge, it boasted one of the latest and loudest (at least to Lisa's ears as she could actually feel the vibrations of the music through the lifts) sound systems available. There was a modern wet bar, long enough to accommodate at least thirty or more people, and the bartenders, both male and female, were exceedingly good-looking and quite proficient in mixing drinks and showmanship, as they flipped, juggled and poured various alcoholic concoctions for their audience/patrons.

The dance floor, complete with state-of-the-art laser lighting, was as large as two Veritechs lined side by side, giving even the wildest dancers enough room to wave their arms as wide as they wished without accidentally striking anyone else. The deejay was floor level, so that he could not only take requests easier, but also show off his impressive mixing and scratching skills.

By the time Claudia and Lisa arrived, the place was nearly packed.

For Roy Fokker, Rick Hunter and Max Sterling, the party had already begun after their last mission. Thankful to have survived yet another day in the seemingly endless Robotech War, they were determined to get as hammered as possible.

The three were now in the midst of a drinking game where the loser had to take a certain number of shots of Titanian vodka. All three had lost track of the rules as well as the number of drinks each was supposed to take, and were well on their way to accomplishing their goal, with Rick looking far worse for wear than the other two.

"Had enough little brother," Roy asked, slamming down his eleventh or twelfth shot. "You can call it quits anytime."

Rick looked at him with defiant if bloodshot eyes. "No way, dude. I can drink with the best of you guys. I won't have anyone calling _me_ a lightweight." He belched loudly.

Max laughed, pouring yet another drink from the endless bottle that mysteriously appeared at their table. From the corner of one eye, he saw the rather shapely brunette bartender who blew a kiss at him. He raised a toast in her direction, something he wouldn't do normally, since he tended towards extreme shyness when it came to the opposite sex, but the alcohol in his system made him bold. It also surprised him that she hadn't ignored him in favor of Roy, which tended to happen quite a bit.

Fokker's eyes turned toward Max's direction and he whistled appreciatively. "Good choice, Sterling. Grab her before I do."

"Not a chance, flyboy," Max replied jokingly. "Besides, it's not like you don't have enough women in your harem to keep you company."

Roy grinned roguishly. "Sterling, there's absolutely _no_ such thing as too many women, considering how much we put our lives on the line. After all, who knows if the next sortie won't be our last? I certainly wouldn't want to leave any of these lovely ladies wondering what they missed."

Rick belched again and reached for another shot. "You're a slut, Roy. But I love you, man."

Roy grinned hugely. "I love you too, little bro. And maybe that should be your last drink."

"Hey, stop being my mother, okay? I'm all right."

The next thing Roy and Max heard was the sound of Hunter's head hitting the table with a thud.

Claudia and Lisa made their way through the crush, finding empty tables close enough to the the dance floor. Lisa had hoped for someplace less conspicuous, but Claudia wasn't having it.

"Oh no, you're not going to turn into a wallflower this soon," Claudia admonished gaily. "We're going to have fun tonight and forget about duty for awhile. And we're starting right now." She called for drinks. "A Jack on the rocks for me, and something sweet and pastel for my friend here."

Lisa felt naked, the sensation of all eyes and all conversations seemingly turned toward her direction. She saw Sammie, Kimmie and Vanessa at a table across from them. All three of the 'bridge bunnies' faces were frozen in shock as they recognized their commanding officer looking far different than normal. It was disconcerting, but a little upsetting too. I mean, did they all expect for her not to have a social life?

Then again wasn't that was the persona she herself had created?

"We're gonna make a party girl out of you yet, Hayes," Claudia said as their drinks came. She raised her glass to Lisa. "To a good night and getting lucky!"

Lisa took a long sip of the alcohol, feeling it course through her veins, slowly eroding away thoughts of duty and decorum. Perhaps Claudia had been right after all, she thought, beginning to relax a little. Perhaps she was a little too uptight and needed a chance to unwind. After all, she wasn't a machine.

And she sure as hell wasn't her father.

Lisa gazed around the club for a minute, seeing people she knew by face, if not name. Most came and spoke with her briefly, though she could barely hear them over the music.

The ratio of males to females was about even, and Lisa found herself taking more than a passing interest in some of them. Most of the males seemed single, and those were the target of the scantily dressed females who strutted and preened for their benefit. "I have to admit that I'm a little shocked at what some of those female officers are wearing though."

Claudia shook her head ruefully. "You _really_ don't get out much do you, girl? That's typical club wear these days."

Lisa looked a bit surprised. "You didn't have anything like _that _hanging in your closet."

Claudia's response was a mischievous grin. "Let's just say that we didn't get that far."

Lisa just ordered another drink. Hearing a loud belch, she craned her head to see where it came from and found herself looking straight into the eyes of Rick Hunter, who looked just as surprised to see her.

"Oh fuck," Rick groaned thickly, his voice slurred by alcohol. "The old battleaxe is here!" But as Rick's vision cleared a little, it occurred to him that she looked absolutely nothing like an 'old battleaxe' now. In fact, she looked rather—like a woman.

The woman actually had _breasts_, rather than the breastplate he'd half-expected she'd be wearing underneath the uniform.

Even Roy and Max were taken aback to see their normally by-the-book commanding officer dressed in something rather skimpy, with heels nonetheless.

But Roy's gaze was quickly diverted from the surprisingly good-looking Lisa Hayes to the dark-skinned woman seated next to her, obviously having a good time. He'd seen and talked with Claudia Grant several times in the course of duty, and he'd always thought of her as attractive, but tonight she looked good enough to eat. Between the flash of her lambent green eyes and the easy grace of her movements, Claudia stood out from the rest.

He could not put his finger on it—though at that moment he wanted to put more than just a _finger_ on her—but there was something alluring about the feisty lieutenant that resonated within him.

Whatever it was, he was so compelled just to stare at her, completely entranced, that he didn't hear Max calling his name.

"Huh? What?" He demanded sharply, hating to take his eyes away from the luscious package in his line of sight.

Max's eyes were full of amusement. "You can't possibly be thinking of trying to make time with Lt. Grant. I hear she's got a mouth that could shoot down a Zentraedi battleloid."

Still unable to tear his gaze away, Roy replied breezily, "Why waste a mouth like that on the damn Zentraedi when she could be kissing _me_, since I'd appreciate it a lot more?"

"Good luck, Fokker. You're going to need it with that one."

Roy stood up, his trademark bravado coming to the fore. "I haven't met a woman yet who could resist the old Fokker charm."

As Roy sauntered in the direction of his quarry, Max muttered under his breath, "Man, you are going to get your ass handed to you on a platter." He was going to say something to Rick, but noticed that Rick's eyes hadn't left Lisa's either.

Oh great, Max thought, sighing. Another one. "This is going to be one hell of a night."

Lisa could tell from her friend's body language that Claudia was itching to get out on the dance floor, and she felt selfish for dominating so much of the other woman's time.

C'mon Lisa, she chided to herself, you're a big girl now. You don't need anyone holding your hand.

With a big smile, she shooed Claudia in the direction of the dance floor. "But remember, no lampshades."

Claudia blew Lisa a mock kiss and was turning toward the direction of the music when she felt a warm, masculine hand on her arm.

"Would you like to dance," Roy asked, his voice an octave lower and sounding enticingly husky.

She took one long look at the infamous playboy known as Roy Fokker, leader of the highly decorated Skull Squadron. He was indeed good-looking in real life, with his shock of platinum-blonde hair, soulful deep blue eyes and a rakish smile that looked as if he was mentally eating her for dinner. But there was something about his attitude, his arrogant certainty that he thought himself irresistible to women that just rubbed Claudia the wrong way.

The man had a reputation several miles long, and while she didn't have anything against a healthy sexual appetite, Fokker's seemed more about making conquests, and Claudia had no intention of being another notch on his belt.

Besides, past experience had taught her that men like Fokker tended to be selfish in bed.

Taking the sexy Lothario down a peg was a job long overdue.

"With _you_ flyboy," Claudia scoffed. "I don't think so. But I'm sure there are plenty of women who'd love to." Jerking her thumb, she indicated a group of young women gathered behind them, their eyes full of worship and adoration. One pair of eyes glittered with undisguised hostility in her direction, as if she'd staked her claim on Roy and that Claudia was in danger of trespassing.

Still, the man _did_ have nice eyes. Nice crystal blue ones that probably darkened in the heat of passion.

Now what the hell made her think that?

Before Roy could say anything else, Claudia Grant had thoroughly brushed him aside.

Watching her casually stroll towards the dance floor with a careless nonchalance, he was torn between surprise at having been thoroughly set down, and admiration for the way she looked in those tight leather pants and that wicked corset-style top. The normal dress whites he'd seen her in merely hinted at the lush curves of her hips, the shape of those luscious legs, and a pair of breasts that would fit just right in the palms of his hands.

Those legs that would look absolutely perfect wrapped around his waist. That rich, berry-colored mouth of hers would be heaven to kiss. That rich, wine-dark skin with its warm earth tones was probably smoother than velvet.

The dance floor became Claudia Grant's personal stage, and Roy Fokker's intense hunger for her grew exponentially.

Surrounded by several other dancers, he had eyes for no one else, even the small coterie of his admirers who were still trying to gain his attention. They were an annoyance, but he could ignore them, as long as Claudia was in his sights.

She was obviously an expert dancer, her movements graceful, sultry and sure. It was like watching silk in a summer breeze, swinging those tempting hips in a manner that had him completely and utterly spellbound.

Those were the kind of moves any stripper would envy, he thought, a wicked picture of her naked and writhing beneath him almost making him gasp from the strength of the arousal the image caused.

And she seemed completely unconcerned about sexual signals she was sending, especially his way. It had to be illegal somewhere, or against some official regulations as to what she was not only doing to him, but probably to every other red-blooded male in the club.

He continued to watch, far from a dispassionate observer. He was no longer intoxicated from alcohol, but from the sight of the sexy woman holding court on the dance floor, surrounded by dull drones.

Roy's face darkened as another dancer, a young ensign in his squadron, began matching Claudia's movements perfectly, and for a fleeting moment several creative ways to make the ensign's life a perfect hell flashed through his mind.

It was that moment Roy Fokker realized that he was _jealous_.

Most women threw themselves at him, and he'd come to expect that. After all, in some ways it was his due for services rendered on their behalf. He'd never thought about it before, being the sort of person who believed in living in the here and now.

He thought it was crazy to be so consumed by a woman, especially by one who had absolutely **no** interest in him whatsoever, but nothing of the sort had ever happened to Roy before.

Ironically, it was that very insouciance which fueled his desire for her even more.

It had been too far long, Claudia thought as the music surrounded her and suffused her limbs with the power of its primal rhythm. Knots of tension and fear from week upon week of Zentraedi onslaughts unraveled as the music took her to another place that did not know war, pain or loss.

Her cute little impromptu dance partner grinned, matching her move for move. His brown eyes held nothing more than an enjoyment of being paired with another of equal skill, and though she was comforted that she wouldn't have to go through the attendant drama of turning him down for a drink, or maybe more, she was a little disappointed too.

That wouldn't have been the case if she'd danced with Roy Fokker, whose eyes she felt like a pair of spectral hands caressing her.

Knowing him, he'd be all over her, whispering sweet nothings, acting as if getting her back to her quarters was already a foregone conclusion.

Then again, it might not be such a bad thing, considering that it had been quite some time since she'd had a man in her bed. Celibacy might work for Lisa, but life was too short to wait for the one great love of one's life. Fokker might not have been Mr. Right, but he just might do for Mr. Right Now.

Perhaps if it were anyone else _but_ Fokker, she might have considered it. Still the sensation of his eyes devouring her body as she danced made her even more aware of him.

He was undeniably attractive, and the thought of those hands on her--

Suddenly, as if he'd read the unspoken train of her thoughts, Roy was in front of her, his eyes twin blue lights filled with desire. For her?

By magic or strength of his will, the music changed into a slow, sensuous throb of swirling keyboards, drum and bass, and the young man she'd been dancing with moments ago had disappeared. Strangely Claudia didn't spare him another thought.

"May I?" Roy asked again, this time his voice was tinged with expectation rather than certainty.

"Of course," Claudia replied softly.

She was in his arms before she could react. Hot hands found their way on her waist, leading her in a private dance as his hips became a tortuous assault on her senses. Nothing in her wildest dreams had prepared her for the reaction of his body against her own. Molten heat coursed through her veins, her heart beat crazily inside her chest.

Eyes closed, Roy inhaled the heady fragrance of vanilla she wore, savored the satiny feel of the woman in his arms. There should have been some awkwardness on either part, but they flowed seamlessly as one.

It was almost like making love to someone cherished, rather than to a stranger.

Neither had the inclination to move away as one song faded into the next. Roy loathed the thought of surrendering Claudia to anyone else, even though his seeming possessiveness of her was quickly becoming topic number one throughout the club.

For Claudia, it just seemed right somehow. He didn't talk, nor try to prove his virility—he just held her tenderly, but without pressure. It would have been easy for her to extricate herself, but she didn't want to. It seemed as if she were seeing a side of Roy Fokker that many people didn't realize existed.

The music grew passionate, and Claudia found herself slipping into a state of dreaminess. The sultry wail of the saxophone was in her blood, and Roy's muscular frame against hers caused it to overheat. She was in danger of completely ignoring the warning signals in her head about him being an expert seducer—it just felt too damn good to be in his arms. It was a sweet bump n' grind, but mutual as he dipped her backwards then brought her up slowly, her thighs against his.

It took every ounce of self-control not to alarm her with his growing arousal, but Roy was determined not to ruin this experience. Claudia Grant was more than some one-night stand, and he didn't know when or how that had happened.

He sensed that people were talking about them, especially him. He was sure that some of the pilots, knowing his reputation, already wagered the outcome. A wry smile of amusement crossed his face when the ones who'd bet upon his bedding Claudia found out that he hadn't. He just hoped they didn't bet their entire paychecks.

Served them right if they had, he thought. He wasn't going to sleep with Claudia Grant. At least not tonight.

Finally, as a faster techno beat intruded upon their world, they parted, still lost and still amazed.

"Thank you," he said. "I mean it."

Suddenly shy, Claudia lowered her eyes. "You're welcome."

Later, they walked back to her quarters in silence, each lost in thought and speculation.

Roy had no idea how she'd managed to get under his skin so quickly, but she had. Moreover, he had no idea why he felt so strongly attracted to her. It wasn't just her body that he craved, though in all honesty the images that flashed through his mind as they were dancing would fuel some intense fantasies for a very long time. The power of his need threatened to overwhelm all common sense, but a part of him knew that if he slept with her tonight, she'd regret it. Or worse, she'd treat it, and him, as something fleeting—and he wanted so much more than to be just a memory.

Why did it matter so much?

It would be a lot of cold showers, but if he could control the complex machine that was a Veritech fighter, he could control a libido that threatened to go on a rampage.

He was going to kiss her, Claudia knew. And she still wasn't sure how she felt about that. He had a nice mouth, and he was probably an expert kisser, but she had no intentions of being another of Fokker's conquests.

Still, wouldn't it be nice to feel those lips against her own, to feel his naked body against hers, held tight in his strong arms, to taste him all over.

They stood facing each other in front of Claudia's quarters, each trying to decide what to do next.

"Oh, what the hell," Claudia said as she gently placed her mouth against his.

Surprise gave way to pleasure as he slowly sank deeper into the lips that he'd so wanted to kiss since he'd first seen her. They were soft and warm, and her mouth tasted like the sweetest honey.

They broke the kiss gently, still in each other's arms. Claudia smiled. "Mmm, that was nice."

"That's putting it mildly," he growled. "My turn, Claudia."

This time their kiss was deeper as Roy took his time to explore her warm, wet mouth. He traced the seam of her lips with his own, swept his tongue inside tasting whisky and her sweetness. He drank his fill, unwilling to end it with just a kiss but knowing that moving too fast would ruin this new sensation he was beginning to understand. Using her head to keep her mouth fastened to him, he took everything she was willing to give.

Roy wanted Claudia badly, but moreover, he wanted _all_of Claudia. And he wanted her to want not just a part of him, but _all_of him as well. If it took time for it to happen, then so be it.

He could wait. He would have to.

Slowly, hesitatingly, he broke away, his eyes dark. "Good night, Claudia." He laced her small fingers in his, kissing each fingertip. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

She nodded, her fingers suddenly hypersensitive. "Good night, Roy."

He thought he'd come from the husky sound of his name on her lips.

"So what happened?" Rick asked Roy the next day as they prepared for maneuvers.

Roy Fokker, commander of the Skull Squadron, just smiled and said the words that Rick had never expected to come out of his friend's lips, "I think I've fallen in love."


	2. First Date

Part II of what I've started calling my **First Trilogy**, starring my favorite Robotech couple, Claudia Grant and Roy Fokker. It's a date, and the two of them are hovering around each other like satellites. But the path to love is never easy, and in this case, it's almost impossible.

I've introduced a new character—Mika Indigo—into the Robotech universe as one of Roy's former lovers, and another obstacle in the path of true love, though don't hate her too much.

Legal stuff: I don't own **anything** in the Robotech universe...I just like to **play** in it.

* * *

First Date

"_So what happened?" Rick asked Roy the next day as they prepared for maneuvers._

_Roy Fokker, commander of the Skull Squadron, just smiled and said the words that Rick had never expected to come out of his friend's lips, "I think I've fallen in love."_

* * *

I think I've fallen in love. 

Fallen in love...

Those three words reverberated through Roy Fokker's head with all the power of being slammed by major g-forces.

Fallen in love...with Claudia Grant.

And he was going to see her tonight.

The hows or whys didn't matter, merely the sensation of having his well-ordered universe turned completely upside down.

Roy Fokker had never been in love before, and the feeling was as confusing as it was elating. In his world of war and bloodshed there simply hadn't been the room for another human being, at least in that sense. He'd had women aplenty, though he was honest enough to know that for most of them, it had been more about their ability to boast that they'd slept with Roy Fokker the war hero and leader of the Veritech squadron, and less about Roy Fokker the man.

At one point in time, the reasons wouldn't have mattered in the least. Everyone got what they wanted. He got sexual release, they got bragging rights.

Until some sexy Lt. Commander with skin the color of warm chocolate and as smooth as satin captured his thoughts. His fantasies had become so powerful at night that he awoke with sheets drenched in sweat and a cock so hard that even thelightest touch was nearly painful.

He had never wanted a woman so badly, but never had he been so afraid of doing or saying the wrong thing. He'd never been so aware of his feelings for another person. More importantly, he'd never been so aware of his mortality, and the thought of dying before ever having truly lived no longer sat well with him.

Even Rick had expressed shock at the subtle changes in his best friend.

"Are you sure you're not just infatuated, Roy?" Rick asked him a few days later in the hangar after their shift. "I mean she's the only woman who basically told you to stuff it. Most women can't wait to jump your bones."

The slight crudity of Rick's speech didn't faze him. "I can't explain it, little bro. It's like lightning or something. I'm not even sure _how_ it happened much less _why_. All I know is that Claudia Grant is in my blood, and that she's not going away anytime soon."

Rick shrugged. "Well whatever happens, I wish you the best. Hopefully you won't end up with as much drama as MinMei and me."

Roy didn't remember the rest of the conversation between the two of them; then again, there was nothing new to tell in Rick's ongoing saga with the spoiled pop princess and former Miss Macross. Their relationship was juvenile to the extreme, at least on her side it was. It was as if Lynn MinMei didn't know if she wanted a lover or a lap dog, though Roy was certain it was the latter.

Besides, he had more important things on his mind, like his date with Claudia Grant.

What would she like, dinner and a movie? Dancing? A romantic walk in the park under the stars—or what passed for stars onboard a massive battle fortress?

Holding his battered acoustic in his lap, while strumming idly a familiar tune, he wondered if Claudia would like to hear him play.

* * *

"I would like for us to run through attack simulation Theta again, Lisa. I think we were a bit slow to respond." 

Admiral Gloval casually observed his young and mostly female crew being put through their paces. They'd performed exceedingly well in the real life and death situation, but it was always good to keep the edge sharp.

As Lisa set the simulation program to the desired scenario, she regarded Claudia quizzically, as she'd been doing the past several days since the night at 'The Bridge', the officer's club two levels below them. Claudia hadn't mentioned much about what happened after she and Roy Fokker had left together, holding hands and looking less like friends and more like potential lovers.

And of course, speculation surrounding the new couple ran riot on the bridge of the SDF-1. Lisa had to remind the bridge bunnies in no uncertain terms about spreading unfounded rumors, considering that they were in the midst of a war, but Claudia, lost in whatever personal memories she held, didn't seem to care in the least.

Claudia just didn't understand why people simply couldn't mind their own business.

Yes, she'd kissed Fokker and he kissed her back. Yes, he asked her out and she agreed. So what? It wasn't like the same situation wasn't happening somewhere else in the universe.

Then again what did she expect? Fokker had a reputation as a ladies man, and if the look that the one female junior officer gave her at the club was any indication, not everyone was thrilled about having the most eligible, if elusive bachelor, being taken out of circulation.

None of that took into account that the date might turn out disastrously. That Roy Fokker's true colors would show, and that she'd have to send him packing.

But what if they didn't? What if Roy Fokker turned out to be the most incredible man she'd ever known? What then?

If anything, their date tonight would help her sort out the myriad feelings that had become a part of her life since. She went from intense attraction to skittish wariness, sometimes both emotions in the same thought. Still at night, he dominated her fantasies and it was almost painful to wake up, being torn from his spectral arms.

* * *

Captain Mika Indigo of Skull Squadron was tired of the chatter, and though she didn't know Claudia Grant, save that the woman was in essence a superior officer, she was tired of her too. 

Don't tell me that men don't gossip as much as women, she thought sourly as she ran her fighter through its diagnostics. She'd taken a minor hit in the last skirmish with the Zentraedi, and though it wasn't serious, to ignore even a scratch could mean the difference between life and death.

She saw the hooded looks from her fellow pilots and even some of the mechanics. She heard the whispers and the speculations and she was frankly tired of playing it off.

Mika knew that some of the less charitable figured that she'd finally gotten what she deserved; they wrongfully assumed that she'd slept with Roy Fokker in exchange for her position.

Of course, some of the male pilots were also jealous of Fokker's prowess with women, and it had to irk them to no end that he'd managed to get his hands on one of the only females in the squadron. Most were probably thinking they had a chance with her now that Fokker seemed no longer interested.

Perhaps that was her own fault, for engaging in such a liaison in the first place, but she'd thought her situation to be different. After all, she'd graduated from the academy in the top one-percent, and she'd demonstrated her leadership qualities many times during the Zentraedi onslaught. She'd earned the right as well as the title and her personal life was nobody's business.

Honestly though, it rankled a bit to have been superceded by a commanding officer. The thought that perhaps Fokker's attraction to Claudia Grant might be short lived was of small comfort.

It wasn't as if she wasn't beautiful enough to hold the interest of a man like Roy Fokker for any length of time. Tall, slender, with lively blue-gray eyes and a radiant mane of fawn brown hair kissed with bronze highlights, she could hold her own even to a Lt. Commander.

She had never entertained the merest thought or ambition to be Mrs. Roy Fokker—life was too uncertain for anything that permanent. But as far as Mika was concerned, she and Roy had come to a comfortable understanding.

Maybe _too _comfortable.

Perhaps she should ask Roy what was going on, have it out face to face. At least then she'd have some answers.

* * *

Nothing looked good. 

That attitude was a far cry from several nights ago, when the only thing that stopped Claudia from wearing one of her more outré outfits was Lisa's apparent disapproval.

This time, everything seemed to be sending the wrong signals. She didn't want—well she _did_ want Roy to see her as enticing, but not sluttish.

Damn, I just don't know what I want, she thought dejectedly, plopping down on her bed.

"Oh momma, I wish you were right here. You'd set me straight."

And Vespasia Grant of the strong will and forthright opinions would have indeed helped her daughter make sense of it all.

It had been her mother who, in spite of the rest of the family's stringent protests, enrolled Claudia in the academy, insisting that not only would their highly gifted child receive a top-notch education, but she would have more opportunities for advancement. The Global Civil War had done near-irreplaceable damage to the world's infrastructure, and many people were out of work, even talented scientists and teachers, such as Vespasia Grant, found themselves doing menial work just to make ends meet.

Her mother had been a loving, generous, if stern woman, who simply would say she trusted her daughter enough for her to make the right decisions.

And Claudia always had.

Slightly buoyed by the positive thoughts, Claudia once again took up the task of deciding what to wear.

* * *

"We need to talk." 

Roy's mind was forcibly brought back to the here and now by the sound of Mika's chilly voice behind him.

Oh damn, he thought, having totally put his third-in-command out of his mind since Claudia entered it.

The two of them hadn't exactly been an item, but Mika had been a steady presence in his world, and his bed, for the past year. He knew what people said about her, and in all fairness, he went out of his way to prove to them that it had indeed been her talent as a leader, and not her talents between the sheets (which weren't quite as impressive as she'd believed) that had been the deciding factor in her promotion.

And though she was right, that he did owe her the grace of ending their relationship, this just wasn't the right time and he said so as tactfully as possible.

He should have counted on her trademark stubbornness.

"Actually, Fokker, this is a perfect time to discuss what's going on here," she said sweetly, her blue-gray eyes flashing angrily.

"Listen, Mika. I was going to tell you, but it seems that gossip travels very fast around here."

"I know that. It still doesn't explain why you couldn't tell me yourself about you and Lt. Grant. I'm the biggest laughingstock in the squadron right now, and I don't like feeling foolish."

Roy sighed deeply, knowing that he owed her an explanation. "Look, I won't lie to you. Something's happened to me, something that I haven't the foggiest notion of how or why, but I just know that Claudia Grant has come to mean a lot to me."

"That didn't take long," Mika sneered. "And how could you possibly have developed feelings for a woman who blew you off on the dance floor three nights ago, unless the sex was _that_ good?"

"Not that's any of your business," Roy replied doing his best to keep anger out of his tone, "But I haven't slept with her."

Mika's eyebrows arched sardonically. "That's a shock. Your standard operating procedure is to fuck first, ask names later."

"And if I remember correctly, that didn't seem to bother you on our first date," he retorted, sweetly venomous.

Point scored as he heard Mika's indrawn breath. He didn't feel triumphant about having to resort to that type of cruelty, but again, since Claudia, nothing made much sense to him. He felt the need to protect her from innuendo, even from people she didn't know.

"I don't get it, Fokker. Is it true what everyone's been telling me for the past year or so? That you're really planning to sleep your way up the chain of command? If that's the case, then what I feel for Lt. Grant isn't jealousy, it's pity."

Mika spun on an elegant heel, turning her head over to peer at him over her shoulder, her hair brushing against her shoulder. "You don't know what love is, Fokker. All you know about is living for the moment, just like I do. And you don't take pain very well."

The door closed softly behind her and Roy let loose a string of epithets that would have shocked even the most hardened of soldiers.

It was hard to believe—that people actually thought of him in that way—an opportunist willing to use his body to get what he wanted. He'd given much of his life, and a great deal of his blood to protect the earth during the days of the civil war, and here he was giving just as much against an enemy that vastly outnumbered the earth forces seven to one—and for what? So jealous and petty people could insult his war record behind his back?

Worse, if this was a rumor that had been spreading unbeknownst to him for all this time, what must Claudia think?

Sinking his head into his hands, Roy Fokker, Commander of the valiant Skull Squadron, felt the weight of dejection set upon his shoulders.

* * *

Claudia tried not to stare at the digital clock on the wall. Nine-thirty. 

The plan had been for Roy to pick her up here at nine o'clock, and she couldn't imagine him being so rude as not to call.

For the tenth time, she checked her appearance in the full-length mirror near her bedroom. She chosen a simple, yet casual look of tailored cropped pants, t-shirt and denim jacket, and on her feet were strappy, low-heeled sandals. She'd added honey-brown highlights to her hair, and her eyes, accentuated with the faintest line of blue-green liner, gave her a subtle, sexy look.

Not that Fokker was here to enjoy the end result of nearly three hours worth of preparation, much of that spent figuring out what to wear.

At the best of times, Claudia was an even-tempered soul, and she had the ability to balance the personality extremes of her bridge mates, including the often taciturn Admiral Gloval. But once her anger was roused, it took a lot more than counting to ten to bring it back under control.

Being stood up by Roy Fokker was testing the limits of her patience, and if he didn't show up or call in the next five minutes, there would be some serious hell to pay.

Then again, was she really all _that_ surprised?

"To hell with him anyway!"

No one noticed as she made her way to Roy's quarters, remembering the directions he'd given her.

* * *

She didn't want to take her anger out on anyone else save him, so she planned to find out what he meant by standing her up for their first—and last, date. Then after she called him every name in the book, she'd take herself back to 'The Bridge' and get herself absolutely tanked. If she was lucky, she wouldn't be returning to her quarters alone. It didn't matter; if it took another man's arms to make her forget all about Roy Fokker, so be it. 

Emotions dictating her movements, she knocked once on the door. She knocked again.

She was not ready for what opened the door.

His eyes were red-rimmed, and not from drinking. His hair was mussed, and he looked less like the cocksure pilot and more like a man in soul-deep pain.

Anger faded quickly to concern. "Oh my god, Roy, what is it?"

Claudia let herself into his quarters, closing the door behind her, as Roy just slid back into an easy chair and closed his eyes. "Do you think I'm trying to sleep my way up the chain of command," he asked his voice tight from the tears he couldn't shed.

"Where the hell did _that_ come from? Talk to me, Roy."

"I've just been accused by someone I thought I knew rather well, that people believe my ultimate goal is sleeping my way to Admiral Gloval's command chair." His laughter was full of bitter irony. "Apparently, my war record isn't good enough."

"And you believe that, right?" Claudia's arms were crossed in front of her, her eyes a mixture of empathy and anger. "Listen to me, Roy Fokker, you might be the biggest gigolo in the universe, but you're also one of the best soldiers we've got, and that kind of ability can't be learned from between the sheets."

A small smile curled on his lips, and the sight warmed her. "Besides, if you were planning to sleep your way up the chain of command, you would have started with the 'bridge bunnies' first," Claudia pointed out wryly. When he raised an eye at the unfamiliar moniker, she added, "Sammie, Vanessa and Kim. That's what Lisa and I call them, though I don't think they know that."

Roy grimaced the thought of any one of the cute but very immature 'bridge bunnies' as potential lovers. Their high-pitched voices and endless chatter often set his teeth on edge, though he knew the three were more than competent officers.

"Of course," Claudia continued blithely, sensing that Roy was beginning to emerge from the cloud of his depression, "Once you made your way through those three, only then you'd get to sleep with _me_." She gave him a knowing wink. "Of course, after you tired of me," and again she winked at him, "You'd have a bit of a problem because to put it bluntly, Lisa can't stand you."

That wasn't a surprise to Roy, was often at odds with the strong-willed First Officer. Still to hear it from Claudia's lips did little to boost his morale.

"That's not to say that she doesn't have any respect for you as a soldier and a leader, because she regards you highly in that respect. It's just that she doesn't think much of you as a man."

Having found his voice again, Roy asked her quietly, "And what do you think of me, Claudia?"

Tilting her head to one side, she gave him a dry smile. "Soldier to soldier, you are the best we've got out there. No one understands robotechnology better than you do, and you're more than a competent leader. I have to say that you do take a lot of unnecessary risks, but they seem to pay off in the end. As a man however, my jury is still out."

"How do I tilt the jury in my favor then?"

"By not standing me up on our first date, Mr. Fokker," she responded with mock seriousness. "But since there are extenuating circumstances in this case, I won't hold it against you."

A comfortable silence fell between them as Claudia's steadfast presence began to dissipate the last of his doubts.

She was an amazing woman, powerful yet compassionate. No one had ever cared enough to be there for him in his darker moments, and while she could have told him to go straight to hell for flaking out on their date, she had put that aside, lending both a sympathetic ear and old-fashioned common sense.

"Will you stay with me tonight?" In his tone as well as in his eyes was a vulnerability Claudia hadn't known existed. Truly there was a lot more to Roy Fokker than anyone knew. Then again, it was more than likely a side he never let anyone else see.

Except for her.

"I just don't think me being out in public is such a good idea, considering. Right now, I just want to relax in good company and learn more about you."

"That doesn't sound like the playboy pilot I know," Claudia joked, disguising the fact that her heart was racing out of control. "Conventional wisdom has me flat on my back right now."

The gaze he turned upon her was enough to scorch paint from the walls, and it made her weak. For all his sensitivity, Roy Fokker was still a devastatingly virile man.

"I won't lie to you Claudia Grant, I would thoroughly enjoy making wild, passionate love to you, and I've dreamt of nothing else for the past few days, but you've come to mean a lot more to me than a way to get my rocks off."

She took a deep breath to calm herself. "Then I'd say we have a date."

* * *

The rest of the evening passed companionably as the two of them shared stories of their lives, their families, their hopes and dreams. 

"My favorite food is pineapple salad," he told her offhandedly in one of their shared moments of candor.

Still, the undercurrent of passion surrounded them, making it difficult to remain unaffected. They were both aware of the little signals—a light touch on the hand or the arm, or a shared smile. And Roy used every excuse he could think of to touch her, to feel even for a second, that silky skin against his own roughened hands.

When Claudia saw the acoustic guitar perched against the wall, she asked him out of the blue, "Would you play me something?"

He never allowed anyone to hear him play, much less sing, but the look in her eyes allowed him to refuse her nothing.

The moment he struck the opening chords of a song he'd only written days ago—a song inspired by her—he was both lost in the moment, and in the image of her completely spellbound. Her beautiful green eyes were soft, almost dreamy, and her body seemed to flow with the music.

She was amazed at how beautiful his singing voice was, like a mixture of whisky and caramel, husky yet smooth. The thought of his voice in the dark as they made love—

God, she should leave now, but didn't want to, nor could she force her limbs to move. Whatever happened this night would happen, and life was too short and uncertain to worry about tomorrow.

The last traces of the song faded into her memory, insuring that she'd never forget it. Their eyes met, saying everything that needed to be said.

"That was incredibly beautiful, Roy," Claudia breathed.

"So are you," and the kiss that they both had wanted finally came.

There was nothing about his skills in seduction that made kissing Claudia as heady and as intoxicating as any alcohol. It was her honesty and her caring. It was the fact that she didn't judge him for his past, though she couldn't absolve him of some of the baggage that came with it. It was the fact that she chose to see him for the man he really was, rather than the man he'd hidden behind years of bravado.

He liked his true self far better than the persona.

Entwining his fingers in the satin curls of her hair, he deepened their kiss, tasting the velvet honey of her warm and welcoming mouth. No woman had the right to taste so good, he thought dazedly as their tongues performed a gentle parry and riposte. Fighting back the overwhelming urgency to strip her bare and bury himself deep inside of her, he nibbled gently on her lower lip until she groaned and brought his mouth back to hers.

She lay atop him, a comforting weight, her breasts crushed against his chest. He swore he felt the hardened nubs of her nipples through her blouse, and he was more than certain she could feel the solid length of his arousal between her legs. He seared a path down the swan-like delicacy of her neck, lapping at the wildly beating pulse there. The intensity of their kiss was as exhilarating as being airborne, as he took sweet hostage of her mouth over and over. Her breath became the only air that mattered.

No woman had ever felt so good in his arms.

And no woman had ever been worth waiting for.

Breaking the kiss, Roy looked deeply into her eyes, passion haze coloring his eyes a soft sky blue. "I want you so badly, Claudia Grant. My entire body is urging me to make love to you."

"So why don't you." Claudia's own body felt languid and heavy with desire, his kiss still singing through her veins.

He kissed the tip of her nose. "But I want more than that from you. I want your regard, your friendship, and I want your love."

Like a spray of icy water hitting her full on, shock coursed through Claudia. She wanted to pull away, but the steel of Roy's embrace held her fast. "It's too soon for that, Roy. I'll be your friend, but love is something that's going to take time."

He nodded in understanding. "I know that, which is why I'm going to deny my body one more time, though I know I'm going to pay for it." The tip of his finger stroked her cheek. "You're worth the wait."

There was nothing else to say, so Claudia gave herself over to the sensation of their lips meeting once again, kissing him with a hunger that in spite of everything, she had never denied.

* * *

Sleep eluded both Claudia and Roy that night, caught as they were in the memory of their first night together. 

And how the power of one small word—love—that could alter their lives forever.


End file.
